


Consider the Lilies

by deepfriedshortpeople (SerendipitousSong), SerendipitousSong



Category: Red Dead Redemption, Red Dead Redemption 2
Genre: Bad Decisions, Bad Parenting, Character Development, Character Growth, Child Neglect, Explicit Language, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Let us start by throwing out Micah's wife, Micah Redemption, Micah is the Good Parent here, Past Child Abuse, Personal Growth, Post-Blackwater, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Racist Language, There is a lot to unpack here, good parenting, pre-blackwater
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2019-09-25 22:00:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17129504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerendipitousSong/pseuds/deepfriedshortpeople, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerendipitousSong/pseuds/SerendipitousSong
Summary: “You murdered the love of my life! Stolen away my daughter! Dragged her into this horrible life! You-- you-- you've all but killed her!”"I looked after her where you failed. If that is a crime, then add that one to all'a the goddamn stupid things I've ever done!"It's been three longs years of shittier and shittier work in the west, and Micah finds himself moving closer to the eastern states than is his preference. Hoping to weasle his way out of noose, he lines up a job that will set his family up for life.What he doesn't expect is a family reunion that ties him to the very gang he's been hunting.





	1. Prologue

_And why take ye thought for raiment?_

_Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow, how they toil not, neither do they spin:_

_And yet I say unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these._

_Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which today is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, shall He not much more clothe you,_

_O ye of little faith._  


* * *

 

Dry dust billowed into the mid-morning sun, thick and red behind a single black horse. Three figures sat upon him, man, woman, and child, galloping as far east as they dared before the law caught up with them.

 

The infant slept peacefully in her mother's arms, but as for the two, there would be no rest. Not until they were as far from California as humanly possible. Not until they were far away from civilization.

 

Meanwhile, in San Francisco, hundreds of  wanted posters hung across the city, with the faces of a man, a woman, and a child etched into the paper:

 

_Micah Bell_

_Wanted ALIVE for_

**_MURDER_ **

**_ARMED_** **_ROBBERY_**

_and the_

**_KIDNAPPING_ **

_of Lindsey Matthews_

_and Lillian Bell_

**_$500_ **

 

* * *

 

_Two and a half years later_

 

A pair of heavy boots squashed through patch after patch of red mud. Their current campsite left much to be desired, especially with Lily running around these days and getting into all kinds of trouble, but such was the life of an outlaw. And that of his tiny family, he supposed.

 

He made up for it by bringing back a couple of actual _cots_ to sleep in, three to be precise. One for Lily to have all to herself -- the little she-demon -- and two pushed real close to seem like a single large bed for… well…

 

For Red. Lord knows he hardly slept _in_ the bed with her. Too much to do. Watches to keep, guns to sling, hits to make. He didn't have time to lay down with his wife or play hide-and-seek with his daughter. Not since they've been on the run again back east, to places they ain't seen in coming up three years. There was just no _time_ . As they inched ever closer towards real civilization, Micah had found himself on the business end of another man's gun far too many instances for his liking. Hell, even the amount of times Red hadda stitch him back together was beginning to make _Lillian_ nervous. And that girl was oblivious to _everything_ other than whatever critters she was befriending outside camp.

 

Micah had his hands full with keeping them alive and keeping ‘em all fed. No goddamn time for anything other than that.

 

Nevertheless, this time, Micah made a huge exception once he caught the furious gaze of his young spouse. Red was sitting cross-legged on that cot, crossed arms and nearly cross _eyed_ from how hard she was glarin’ him down, and if there was one thing in this backwater shithole of a world that he _knew to be fact_ , it was that when Red is giving him that look, he better hike up his britches and make his way over. So he did.

 

“Yes, dearest wife of mine?” Micah vaguely wondered where in the hell his daughter had wandered off to. Perhaps he should be keeping a better eye on the tiny thing.

 

“To _what_ do I owe the pleassssure of your… ever-elusshive presh-ence, hmm,” she slurred, whiskey bottle lying in her lap. “Come to relieve them blueballs?”

 

Well, that sounded like a good idea. However, Micah knew his life was on a timer right now, as well as Red's and Lily's. They were heading into law-ridden territory. That meant keepin’ on the move. Red must've read as much in his eyes, for she spat on his boots.

 

“No. We been in thish camp plenty long, we can stay here a _biiiiit_ longer.”

 

“Can't. Hurry it up, start packin’. I want us to be outta here and over state lines two days from now.” _Sooner_ , he thought, but knew better than to say that out loud.

 

“Micah,” and _by God_ , she was _pleading..._ and sobering up a bit. “Lillian just made friends with that puppy out at that homestead north'a here. If we leave now she'll be--”

 

“She'll be just fine and you know it, woman.” He reached for a blouse hanging out to dry, hauled his boot onto the cot frame, and wiped that foul woman's spittle off. “You ain't gotta use the girl as an excuse. Just admit it; you wanna stay.”

 

Red just stared at the desert stars, watching smoke from their fire turn fluffy in the cold night air.

 

“Damn it Micah. I… I wanna go back west. There's less hits but there's less people. Less interference.” She gave him a mean look. “Less stitches I gotta give you.”

 

Well. That was _not_ what he expected.

 

“And! And… I… you… you ain't been around for a while. Er… Lily been asking after you.”

 

Ah. There it was. She was lonely, the poor woman. Micah paused a moment to let the fact sink in that he knew Red well enough to hear through her bitching into whatever it was she wanted from him. And then he let the pause drift longer while he internally panicked over the whereabouts of Lily.

 

“If it's my time yer wanting, you have but to ask, dear. No need to whine about it. Here, scooch on over--” he flung his hat onto a crate next to their (her) bed and laid back, “why don't we just lay a minute? Catch up?”

 

Red blinked and narrowed her eyes. “What in the hell have you done with the real Micah Bell?” His only response was to scoot closer.

 

Red huffed but the blaze in her eyes had simmered down to a matchstick. Soon enough she was laying beside him, and they turned onto their sides to face one another.

 

“Hey,” he whispered.

 

“Hey,” she whispered back with a silly smile.

 

“Where's Lily?”

 

“No clue.”

 

Where his heart was still racing in panic, Red just rolled her eyes and suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs,

_‘'Lillian Rose Bell!”_

 

And behold, somewhere out in the canyons around their temporary home, Micah heard a small faint _Mama_ in response, causing his heart to finally slow up a bit.

 

Until they heard her screaming too.

 

_“Damn it-”_

 

_“Shit--”_

 

“Lillian! Lily where are you!?”

 

“Lillian!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Goddamn fucking snakes.

 

Micah had had enough of snakes for three lifetimes! Slithery bastards, bothering him. Bothering his baby girl. Stupid little beady-eyed shits.

 

“Micah please stop cursing and go to sleep.”

 

He hadn't realized he'd been saying that all out loud. Must be the novelty of actually laying down next to his wife for a change. After shooting the snake Lily had tried to pet and almost getting killed by a coyote what heard the gunshots, Micah decided that relieving his blueballs was still a great idea, and did exactly that once they put the tiny monstrosity to bed. Now, Red had her head on his shoulder, passing a cigarette from her mouth to his.

 

“My camp. I do as I please.”

 

“Like hell you do,” Red huffed. “This camp's _mine_ , anyhow. You just bring in money and meat.”

 

Micah actually laughed. “That so?”

 

“It is. When's the last time I seen you doing any sorta chores 'round here? Do you even know how to wash your own clothes?”

 

Micah took a long drag from the cigarette then pushed it into his wife's mouth. “Yes. But I hate it. I hate chores.”

 

At his little confession, Red lifted her head up to look hard at him. “What _don't_ you hate, you horrible man?”

 

Micah just smiled at her. “You. Lily. My guns.”

 

 _At least she seems satisfied with that answer,_ he thought as she laid back down and placed her tiny hand over his chest. Red hair and blond mingled on the pillows, and two chests rose and fell as smoke continued to rise from their camp.

 

They were gone before the sun broke over the canyon.


	2. One

New Austin was more of the same red dust and sparse foliage. If he were honest with himself, Micah would say to himself how much he missed real trees, real huntin’ and rain. He might even say he _longed_ to be that far east. But Micah ain't an honest man, so he chalked it up to breathing in too much sandy air and whistled for Baylock.

 

Red had long since finished loading their single tiny wagon and went off somewhere to wrangle Lily into a bath. The long road they had travelled in the past week hadn't done any favors towards the tiny beast's hygiene. Neither had it done so for his own or Red's, but they was less likely to get sick from it, so off to a bath it was for Lily. Micah stuck his hand in the warming water to check its temperature. _Just right._

 

He hauled it off the flames, dumping it into the half-full washbasin and lathering up some soap powder to make it sudsy. Hopefully the bubbles would be enough of a peace offering to his demon daughter in exchange for givin’ her a bath.

 

Soon enough Red was sprinting back with a wailing toddler, so Micah took a jog towards Baylock and Nutmeg. Hitching them up to his wagon -- and ignoring the pleas of his baby girl to rescue her from her mama -- he ran through his plans mentally.

 

Out north'a Armadillo was this little place called Twin Rocks. Hopefully his contact hadn't died and was holed up there waiting for him, keeping a low profile. Pinkertons were always willing to strike a deal, and Micah had heard tell of many outlaws given pardon and living out their lives in the west. Some've even been given small farms near proper little towns to own and work. If he could just locate this gang, these _van der Lindes_ , and bring ‘em in… well. His little family could hide out there a while until he and Cinco could coordinate, do some “logistics” on owning a farm.

 

That is, if Cinco still liked him. Which truly ain't likely.

 

“Micah! Let's trade jobs, here; you bathe your damn daughter and _I'll_ tie all our shit down!” Red's yelling was punctuated by horrid splashing and Lily's wailing.

 

Micah sighed. _Damn woman._

 

“I'm comin’, I'm comin’. C'mere you little monster--”

 

“Take her.”

 

“Dadda!” Tiny arms and legs clambered up onto his chest, soaking him down the front of his shirt.

 

Red just watched their daughter leap into his arms and leave her there, soaked to the bone. Micah tried not to notice but a flicker of something foul danced in her eyes like lightning, there and gone as soon as it came.

 

“Well.” She blinked rapidly and turned away. “If she likes you so much, maybe _you_ should take care of her!” And _thud thud thud_ went her boots farther away.

 

Father and child just stared at the flaming woman, then turned to look at each other.

 

“Mama is mean to me.”

 

“I know, you beastly thing. C'mon, let's get you cleaned up.”

 

He settled her back down in the cooling water, and cupped some suds in his hands. She copied him, and they blew a shower of bubbles at each other. A few lodged in his mustache, and Lily giggled at the sight.

 

“You're Santa!”

 

“I'm Santa? That make you my little elf?”

 

Lily slapped her hands on his cheeks and lathered soap into his skin. “Yeah! And Mama's tha devil!”

 

Micah wanted to laugh, but he could feel Red's eyes boring into the back of his head. Instead, he swatted Lily's behind.

 

“That ain't nice to your mama, rosebud. She's your mama.”

 

“No she's not.”

 

A groan puffed through his lips. “Yes, she is. You best mind her, ya hear? She's your mama.” His hands worked the soap into her tangled strawberry waves. A week's worth of grime loosened between his fingers, turning the soapy water grey. Lily took her cue to cup some water and lather it up as well, and soon enough they had her cleaned. Lily hopped out of the washbasin stark naked and Micah panicked a moment before a towel got shoved in his face.

 

“Here, dry ‘er down. Wagon's ready.” Red refused to look at him. Somehow that fact made Micah's heart ache a little.

 

“Thanks, Red.”

 

“Thanks yourself.”

 

Micah watched her only for a moment. Lily really put him to work, towelling her off and stuffing her into some undergarments, but eventually she was dressed in a yellow linen ruffly… thing. Dress, he supposed. Her stockings and boots were in a small trunk, ready if she needed them.

 

“Alright baby, let Mama fix your hair now. Let's go--”

 

“No!”

 

_“Lily--”_

 

_“No!”_

 

“Lillian Rose, you better get in that wagon with your mama before I get the switch.” When she didn't heed his threat, he moved his hands near the driver's bench, where Red handed him the switch without a word. “Alright then--”

 

 _“No Dada!”_ There went his heart.

 

“Well then rosebud,” Micah stooped to dump the washbasin into the dirt. “Let's strike us a deal. You get your hair braided up by Mama, _no fuss_ , and I'll make Runny Deer Soup once we get where we're goin’.”

 

“ _Micah Bell_ , don't you _dare_ promise her tha--”

 

“Whaddya say, little lady?”

 

Micah knew he'd be back to sleeping on a bedroll in the dust for this, but he took no pleasure in whippin’ his daughter. Not when she could be reasoned with at such a young age. He remembered the sting of a switch on tender skin, remembered being afraid of his own pa. Now, while he hadn't given much thought into being a father himself, now that he _was_ one, he was determined to be different. Being afraid of one parent was enough for a little girl out in the wilderness.

 

“Lily? Whaddya say?”

 

Her only response was to clamber over the lip of the wagon and seat herself in Red's lap. Hopefully their twin looks of utter betrayal didn't follow him into his dreams tonight.  


 

\---  


 

They did.

 

Micah lay awake in his bedroll, watching Red stare at the stars again in a drunken stupor, smoke billowing from her pretty mouth, listening to her hum a song he'd heard her own mama sing once. The rifle in her lap seemed out of place against the pink of her skirt. Lily had enjoyed her bowl of that awful concoction of boiled up deer jerky, but eventually sleep suffocated her. She lay next to him instead of in her cot tonight, under his chin and tickling his neck with her breath.

 

Red had watched their daughter crawl nearer him, dolly in hand, and stared a while with hate and longing mixing on her brow. Finally she took to her usual solution for any sort of _perceived_ trouble concernin’ Lily: a bottle of whiskey.

 

Maybe he should relieve her of watch tonight. She was drunk and only getting drunker. She was angry. She had a gun. She was… ill. But a selfish bit of his self argued that he deserved to hold his daughter once in a while. He deserved to sleep instead of walk a perimeter around his family sometimes. Maybe some days he could just sit and do nothing. It was his due.

 

Micah fell asleep still watching his wife outdrink him and fiddle with a gun in the dead of night.

  
  


\---

  
  


Two more days of travel brought them to Armadillo. Red nearly sprinted into town as soon as he parked the wagon near the stables, leaving him with a grouchy, bored two and a half year old to entertain.

 

He looked at Red's figure running away, and the shared a look with Lily. She giggled. “Mama goed away?”

 

“Yeah, rosebud. She sure did.” _Headed right to the saloon._

 

_“Good widdens, asshole!”_

 

Micah was sure his brains were melting out his ears. If he weren't surrounded by strangers on a main road, he'd whip her behind so fast she wouldn't realize it'd happened. Yet, in the same moment, Micah wanted to laugh his _ass off._ Hearin’ that tiny monster of a girl call her irresponsible, hungover mother an asshole… well. _Hilarious._

 

“Your girl's got one helluva mouth on her.”

 

Micah whipped around, hand twitching for his revolver, to face the stranger who'd managed to startle him.

 

First thing he noticed was the beauty mark high on the man's cheek. Everything else slammed into him at once and he took in the dark hair and eyes, the hat, all them rings, the gaudy vest that drew eyes towards him even as they sized each other up silently. The stranger's bearing _begged_ for attention. It was disgusting. He was an idiot for looking like _that_ this far west, surrounded by men Micah _knew for a fact_ were a part of the local gang.

 

But what else could he expect from--

 

“Thanks. Taught ‘er myself.” He stuck out a hand. “Michael Bellford, partner.”

 

The stranger -- though not a stranger to Micah's eyes -- shook it firmly.

 

“Wallace Dupont, mister, just in from Saint Denis.” _Liar._

 

_\-- Dutch van der Linde._


	3. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback 1: First Meeting

_He'd been on the run again for weeks, hired guns on his tail for the_ assassination _of some big business oil man. The power vacuum crested would be filled back up by some man named Cornwall, but that weren't none of his business. He needed to focus on getting to the coast, fast._

 

_The city weren't his favorite place to hide, but hired guns from the dusty nowheres of New Austin to eastern California spooked at the thought of Pinkerton patrols. For a man who'd kept his face off the walls of any sheriff's office from here to New Hanover, ain't no Pinkertons nothing to fear._

 

_Thus, Micah Bell found himself hauling ass over a fancy fenceline and into a barn. The homestead was a ways away from the city itself, out where things were still quiet and dark. Baylock settled outside, chewing the roses against the shed._

 

_No lights came on inside the house, and there no ranch hands inside the barn sleeping. Figuring himself alone, he sat against a wooden wall and breathed in the scent of hay._

 

_And perfume._

 

_His revolver whipped outta the holster faster than he even blinked, aimed at the forehead of the prettiest girl he'd laid eyes on in years. Micah didn't fail to notice the sawn-off shotgun aimed between his eyes, steady in the grip of this tall and pale creature._

 

_They stared at each other for what felt like a lifetime to him, and for the life of him, Micah Bell could not determine the color of her eyes in the moonlight. Her skin glowed, freckled and blotchy, face twisted up in one helluva scowl. He thought she may be a redhead, but in the darkness, it was hard to tell._

 

_She still had not lowered her gun._

 

_“You one'a Daddy's men?”_

 

_Micah blinked. “Who's yer daddy?”_

 

_The girl spat into the hay. “Goes by Matthews.”_

 

_Irritation prickled lightly at the edge of his mind. “There are a lot of Matthewses out in the world, little lady. Why don't we holster our guns and talk like--”_

 

_“--civilized people?” She scoffed, “Hain't no civilized people out where you come from, mister. Why're you here?” Her voice raised at the last bit, and Micah winced, never lowering his own gun._

 

_“I just need a place to hide out a bit. Won't cause no trouble, darlin’. Wouldn't mind a little company, neithe--”_

 

WHACK!

 

_His cheeslburned something fierce. The mystery girl brought her hand back, ready to slap him again._

 

_“You bitch! Ya slapped me!”_

 

_“I did.” The beastly woman had the audacity to look affronted. “You were gettin’ fresh with a seventeen year old girl. In a barn! At night! With your gun pointed at her face-- Hey!”_

 

 _He leapt at her and batted her gun to the ground, kicking it away. She switched tactics quick, clawing at him and biting, and he scrabbled right back, kicking at her and trying to wrangle her arms. It went on, her attacking him and scratching his skin, him yelping and trying to get free. Micah had never met a young woman so ghastly and vicious. As one of her veritable_ talons _nearly gouged out his right eye, he found thoughts of a cornered street cat run through his mind._

 

_Finally, he subdued her, pinning her arms behind her back and slamming her front against a wall._

 

_“You done there, sweetheart?”_

 

_“Unhand me, you greasy rat!”_

 

_“Why don't you apologize, nice and sweet as can be, for all these marks you made on my handsome face?” Micah leaned in and whispered into her ear, “Miss Matthews.”_

 

_And suddenly, the beastly girl quit struggling. She huffed in air heavily, shaking a bit like she'd run a few miles in the hot sun. Micah leaned back, still holding her wrists together, and watched as she glanced at him over her shoulder, eyes wide. There was an expression on the half a face he could see, something he couldn't quite place._

 

_“Mister…”_

 

 _Oh. Ohh. Her pupils were blown wide, and she wiggled_ just so _against his body that he began feeling his hips tingle. Excited, he leaned forwards again and whispered ever so quietly, “How about that company, Miss Matthews?”_

 

_She gasped. “I…  I…”_

 

_“There there,” he soothed, free hand stroking the soft waves flowin’ down her back. “I don't bite… too hard.”_

 

_Little Miss Matthews suddenly whipped around and put a knee in his crotch, and Micah simultaneously saw bright lights swirling above him and felt his knees were nothing but jam. Burning pain boiled his gut, dragging him into the hay. The cocking of a revolver -- his revolver -- made him still his writhing._

 

_“No wonder my mama left my daddy. All you lot are pigs to the lowest degree.” She spat, and something warm splattered on his cheek. A scratch she'd left stung. “Goodnight mister. Don't come knocking again after tonight, or you'll find yourself down a dick and full'a bullet holes.”_

 

 _He knew he oughta get up, maybe drag her back into barn for some sweet revenge. She had seemed mighty_ enticed _just a moment ago anyways. Yet, all he could do was gasp, trying to find words to fit inta his mouth before them footsteps sauntered all the way back to her house._

 

_“B-Bell,” he rasped. The footsteps paused._

 

_“Say again?”_

 

_“Bellford. Michael Bellford.” He raised a hand up into the air blindly, still holding his sore balls with the other. “Extremely displeased to make your acquaintance, Miss Matthews.”_

 

_A tiny, calloused hand grabbed his and shook firmly._

 

_“Hello, Mister Bellford. I'm Lindsey Matthews.”_

 

_“What outlaw fucked his whore and made a bitch like you, huh?”_

 

_The footsteps were near gone but Micah caught her answer before he decided to let pain and exhaustion take him._

 

_“Wouldn't you like to know.”_

  
  


\---

  
  


_He came back later that week._

 

_Miss Matthews, in all her majesty, was pullin’ weeds out a sizeable vegetable garden underneath a second story balcony. Filthy grey skirts were tucked into her waistband, exposing her thighs, and the men's shirt she was wearin’ lay unbuttoned over her corset. Flaming waves of hair slipped out of a poorly tied bun at the base of Miss Matthew's neck. All in all, Micah could not complain one bit about the view. However, an older woman with the same fire in her hair and eyes leaned over the balcony, scowling._

 

_“Lindsey Ray! Button up that shirt or I'll button you!”_

 

_Miss Matthews -- Lindsey Ray -- whined like a fussing child. “Mama, there ain't anybody here but you and me! ‘S not like some strange man is about to appear to ogle my--”_

 

_He decided now was a perfect time to emerge from the bushes. "Hello again," he said, and waved._

 

_Lindsey Ray simply craned her neck around and sent him the nastiest glare he'd ever been pinned with. If looks could kill, Micah would embrace death happily._

 

_"My statement still stands. I have yet to spot me any type of man 'round here. All I see is a vile beast."_

 

_The woman above had disappeared as Lindsey spoke. Now, she appeared in a window not three feet to his right, shotgun aimed at his head._

 

_"Jesus Christ, woman!" Micah scrambled back and waved his empty hands in surrender. "What is it with you ladies and fucking guns in my face!?"_

 

_"Ain't no one gonna fuck you with anything else, filthy as you are you dingy mongrel," Mrs. Matthews yelled. "Who do you work for?"_

 

_"I don't work for nobody! Just why," he stepped forward and tried to bat the barrel away from him, "are you two so concerned with mysterious men dropping in who work for your man!?" Unsuccessful, he settled for whipping his own guns out level with the Missus' nose._

 

_"Lindsey, you know this man?"_

 

 _"Yeah,_ Lindsey Ray. _You know this man," he mocked. "She nearly clawed my eye out last night in the barn!"_

 

_At his words, the mother blinked and looked sharply at his girl. Because she surely was his girl now. She just didn't know it yet._

 

_"Lindsey Elizabeth! Just what have you been getting up to in town!?"_

 

_His girl gaped and went redder than the dirt on his boots. "I-- Mama, that haint -- Jesus Mama it weren't like that! He came in there--"_

 

_"I'm sure he did!"_

 

_"Damn it, Ma! Shut it for one minute while I explain it to you--"_

 

_"Better get talkin' then! I can't imagine any other reason for a man who ain't with your daddy to come waltzing in ogling your legs so--"_

 

 _Micah's eyes bounced back and forth between the two women as they bickered. All he could think was,_ if'n I married this girl, I'ma hafta kill her mother. Ain't no way that bitch is gonna be my in-law.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have finally reached the required level of FUCK needed to post a chapter. And all you got was this. Why do yall pay attention to me? I'm from America. I don't deserve anything.
> 
> Also thus is un-beta'd because my beta from 5evr ago is not a decent human and my current beta doesnt know this chapter exists. Love ya Kate.

**Author's Note:**

> This one goes out to Kate on tumblr and to me because this one is the first one I've been THIS excited about since I first posted Crescendo (and if u know what Crescendo is then u a real one... an u probs still waiting lmao)


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